Friday, April 20, 2007

The boy and I are solo this weekend. This means fries from McDonalds and unadulterated, straight fruit juice.

Still sick. Bloody hell.

Still trying to woo the Phoenix Foundation to Bishop. Getting close. Great press leading up to the release of Eagle vs. Shark and the re-re-release of the band's debut Horsepower.

I avoid the news. I know how sick I feel thinking about the folks left behind after the Virginia Tech murders. Nothing will change. This is America afterall. I lost a cousin to a holdup that went wrong. I almost lost an uncle. This is a reality I am uneasy with. I think about Wyatt growing old and being happy and hope for the best.

Planting out the garden with perennials and veggies with a vengeance. Come Autumn, I will probably be cut up six ways from Sunday. It's probably not my hips, says the brutally honest and refreshing hip specialist Dr. Mast, but my femurs. They are all cattywampus. I have the early signs of arthritis. A CT scan in June will help him get to a good diagnosis.

What's the weather like here?

Tomatohead's bits

Now that I live in the middle of the desert, I get positively weepy when I think about Asian noodle dishes. Other than that, life is good. We chug along as a family surrounded by a wonderful community of friends - near and far. We rock out when the odd band graces us with their presence. We potluck all the time. We like our espresso, beer, whisky, cured pork products, and chocolate.